


Are You Ready to Rock n' Roll?

by marsisaplanet



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roller Derby, Alternate Universe - Skating, Eventual Smut?, F/M, Fluff, Hanbrough, Ice Skating, M/M, Reddie, Stanlon - Freeform, Stenbrough, Whip It AU, benverly - Freeform, figure skating, roller skating, stanlonbrough, stenbranlon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2020-01-23 19:08:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18555979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marsisaplanet/pseuds/marsisaplanet
Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak is tired of figure skating, the little town he lives in, and most importantly, his mother. But when his best friend Bill drives him down to Bangor one day, he meets the Losers Club, a rag tag roller derby team and a loud-mouthed member of their crew, Richie. Resparking the passion inside of him, Eddie decides to join. But what happens when ice skating and roller skating mix? What if his mother finds out? And will his happiness truly last?A fic based on the movie Whip It, directed by Drew Barrymore.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: @marsisaplanetyall

There’s no easy way to put it. Eddie hates his mom

Sure, I mean he loves her. He doesn’t really have a choice, she’s the only parent he has left. And she cares, which is more than he can say for his best friend Bill. But holy fuck, sometimes (okay maybe all the time), Eddie wants to strangle his mom. Sure, he isn’t delicate, no matter how many times his mom will tell him. But no matter how much he wants to, her neck is too fat and thick to wrap his tiny hands around. It’s like a ham.

But Eddie will happily take his pills in front of his mom to make her happy. He’ll resist the urge to dump his meds into the toilet and watch them swirl down. It’s pure habit to take a puff of his inhaler when he feels his anxiety creeping in. Fuck, if he admits it, it actually helps in a way. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with being aware of all of the germs around you and washing your hands for exactly two minutes after you go to the bathroom. Right?

Eddie’s not delicate, but he’s small and he’s graceful. His mom put him in ice skating at the age of three. Her baby boy had to get exercise somehow, and besides her precious lil Eddie wouldn’t get hit in the face with a ball. Only a couple of bruises, which Sonia would use to her advantage of course. She’ll drag him upstairs and practically freeze him to death as soon as she finds out he has a bruise. The injured spot is immediately elevated and about a pound of crushed ice in a ziploc bag is thrown on top. And then Eddie is coddled for god knows how long before she finally leaves and he can watch Queer Eye in peace.

*

Eddie glides across the ice leaving trailing lines behind him. It’s probably one of the prettiest things he gets to see on a regular basis. The zamboni had just cleaned up before he got there. Sometimes he would try to see what patterns he could come up with. He thought of it as painting, but his skates were the brush. Afternoon warm ups were always like this on Thursdays. The only skaters at the rink on Thursdays were the ones who had scheduled extra practice with the coaches, and Mrs. Kaspbrak wanted only the best for her son. It’s a sort of relief to have the rink to himself. He allows himself two laps around the rink before practicing upright spins and axles when he spots Bill.

To say Bill is Eddie’s best friend is an understatement. They’ve known each other since Bill scraped his knee on a sidewalk when they were in preschool. Eddie pulled a Bob the Builder Band-aid out of his fanny pack and the rest is history. Bill was known to be a dumbass, and based on the look on his face, Eddie was guessing that he was up to one of his usual schemes.

“I h-have an idea,” Bill said as Eddie collided with the railing. This it what happens when you get lost in thought. Wincing, Eddie looked up at Bill.

“You have an idea? That already sounds pretty dangerous to me. Spit it out Bill.”

“Duh-do you want to go to Bangor? I m-mean with finals right around the c-corner you need to relax a-and don’t you have like anoth-ther competition soon or s-something?”

“Dude first off when? Second off, with finals coming up shouldn’t we be at home I mean, my mom will freak if I slip up not to mention if we go to Bangor.” Eddie looked skeptically at Bill as he shuddered at the thought of how his mom would react.

“Eddie, your m-mom has kn-nown me since we were both little. I can drive, it’ll o-only be for a few hour-z. We c-can leave in the morning and be ba-a-ck by 7:00. It’s our senior y-year and you’re practically killing yours-s-self with your workload,” Bill pouted as Eddie rolled his eyes. “C-come on Eddie, you kn-now you wanna.”

“Yeah I do,” Eddie looked around the rink. “When do we leave?” 

“We d-don’t have school tomorrow, I’ll p-pick you up at 9:00.”

“I don’t even know if I can go Bill.”

“Ye-yeah well just ask your mom aft-ter practice.”

“Bill.”

“Eddie.”

“Ugh fine.”

“Catch y-you later,” Bill said as he walked towards the door.

“Yeah bye Bill,” Eddie glides back towards the center of the rink before attempting a quad and falling straight on his ass. 

 

*

Eddie walked home from practice, his skating bag thumping against his thigh. Would his mom actually freak out if he went to Bangor with Bill? He was right in a way, his mom had known him since they were tiny. But, that doesn’t mean she isn’t suspicious or the stick shoved up her ass has suddenly fallen out. 

But Bangor would be freedom. It would be a break and god knows Eddie needed one. Bill would probably do something stupid on the way and Eddie would have to drive home and would that really be worth it? His mom would be texting him every two minutes. But there’s a Friendly’s in Bangor and some shopping would be nice. Plus he’d be able to blackmail Bill once he did get drunk or high or God knows what.

He opened the door, his mom sitting in her recliner, the tv running in the background as she ate microwaved mac n’ cheese in her lap. 

“Eddie-bear is that you?” her high pitched voice asked.

“Yeah I just got here mommy,” Eddie cringed at the nickname as he walked to the kitchen.

“Oh thank goodness, I was so worried about you,” she shrilled. “You’re late sweetie what took you so long?”

“Practice just went a little over time mommy,” he called back while scanning through the fridge. Dinner would probably be Ding-Dongs and some Cup O’ Noodles. Despite worrying about her son’s health, Sonia Kaspbrak stocked up on junk food more than anything. 

“Why, you need to get home sooner Eddie-bear. I can’t stay around here by myself for long you know,” Sonia pouted. “You know how lonely I get.”

“I know mommy, I’ll try to hurry up I promise,” he replied as he walked into the living room where his mother was. Eddie gave her a quick kiss on her fat cheek, trying not to cough from the heavy makeup she was wearing. “I need to ask you something mama.”

“Yes sweetheart?” Sonia raised an eyebrow as Eddie drew in a deep breath. Either way the outcome would be negative. He braced himself for screams or coddling.

“Is it alright if I go to Bangor with Bill tomorrow? We were just gonna go to Friendly’s, maybe get some shopping done?”

“Why Eddie honey, don’t you have finals coming up?” Sonia asked, after taking a bite of the TV Dinner in her lap. 

“Yes mama, but I’ve been studying all week. And with skating practice everything has been very stressful. We just wanted to take a break and hang out together,” Eddie said, trying to be as sweet as he possibly could. He couldn’t tell what his mother was thinking as she swirled her food with a plastic fork. 

“As long as you agree to stay home this weekend, except for skating practice of course,” Sonia finally replied. “I know you don’t have school tomorrow so I suppose it’s alright for you to go with William. I’ll have two full days to hang out with my Eddie!”

Eddie nodded, knowing it was the best offer he was going to get. A day out of town with his best friend was better than staying home with his mom for all three.

“Thank you mommy,” Eddie said before placing another kiss on her cheek and walking out of the den.

“Is that boy picking you up?” she asked before he was fully out of the room. 

“Yes mama.”

“You better be home before 9:00 pm, do you understand?” Sonia asked, a sickeningly sweet smile on her face despite her stern tone.

“Yes mama,” Sonia nodded, excusing Eddie completely from her sight. He rushed upstairs to his room, texting Bill the good news before doing his pre-calc homework and falling into bed.

*

Eddie figured Bill would be late, which is why he let himself get up at 8:30, but he was wrong. Bill wasn’t late, he was early.

Bill was usually anything but punctual. He would almost always show up to each class two minutes after the bell would ring. It was as if his brain had its own clock that was slightly behind. So when Eddie heard his doorbell ring at 8:47 and saw Bill standing outside, he nearly shit himself.

“Why are you here early?” Eddie asked, still in his sweatpants. “You’re never fucking early how. . .?”

“We n-need to get a m-move on,” Bill said, bright smile spread across his face. “Put some clothes-s on man, let’s g-go.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to be this early,” Eddie said, still in a state of shock. “I was expecting you to show up at like 9:15. This is so fucking unusual oh my god.”

“Y-yeah Eddie,” Bill said with an eye roll. “Now m-move your ass, it’s a half hour dr-rive to Bangor.” Eddie nodded before racing upstairs, getting ready, and coming back downstairs in a flat five minutes.

Bill all but dragged Eddie into his shitty station wagon before turning the radio up and speeding out of the neighborhood. Eddie thanked whatever God there was above that Bill didn’t hit a trash can or a mailbox on his way out.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?” Eddie asked Bill, knuckles turning white from clenching his armrests. Bill laughed.

“Eddie, you d-drive even faster than me,” Bill said. “I’d be more freaked out th-then you are r-right now.”

“Hey!” Eddie said stubbornly, before changing the radio station. “Look, I get myself where I need to go.”

“Y-yeah,” Bill scoffed. “And almost m-murder anyone with-th you in the process.”

“I’m just aggressive,” Eddie protested.

“No-o, you’re cr-razy and have a severe case of road r-rage at all times.”

“Do not!”

“Yes you d-do.”

“No I fucking don’t.”

“Eddie y-yes you do.”

“Bill keep your fucking eyes on the road, you almost hit that guy’s bumper.”

“Shit!” Bill hit the brakes hard, head almost bumping the steering wheel.

“Yeah that’s it,” Eddie said. “I’m driving. Pull over.” Bill grumbled angrily before turning into a parking lot. “Keys,” Eddie stuck one of his hands out as he took off his seat belt. Bill begrudgingly gave them to him before climbing out of the driver’s seat.

“Sh-shotgun chooses the musi-ic,” Bill pointed out.

“Don’t put anything shitty on I swear to fucking god,” Eddie groaned as he put the car in ignition.

“Yeah yeah. . .” 

“Fuck this is gonna be a long drive.”

*

Eddie pulled into the parking lot of a strip mall, Bill singing Ice Ice Baby at the top of his lungs. He had been right, it was a long drive. Bill’s shitty taste in music and traffic had only made Eddie’s mood worse.

“I’m really starting to regret this,” Eddie grumbled.

“Aw c-come on Eddie,” Bill whined. “You need to r-relax. Let’s go sh-shopping or something.”

“We’re at a strip mall for a reason.”

“Look th-there’s a thrift s-store!” Bill pointed, excitedly tugging Eddie’s arm. Eddie let himself smile.

“Fuck yes,” Eddie murmured before hopping out of the driver’s seat and slamming the car door behind him. Bill pulled the door open, it casually banged shut behind them, bell ringing softly to inform anyone in the store that they had new customers. 

It was dim though light shined through the windows. Racks of flannels, jean jackets, and ripped trousers filled the shop. It was a sea of vintage clothing and the smell didn’t hide it. Eddie could smell weed faintly coming from a corner before he noticed the line of bongs and pipes for sale in a display case by the cash register. Bill gripped a hand onto Eddie’s shoulder.

“Are we in h-heaven or what?” Bill laughed. “M-maybe I’ll find some new earrings here.”

“Yeah and I was planning on getting some boots,” Eddie said while he flipped through a rack of old graphic tees. Then a boy about their age leaned up against the rack. He brushed his fingers through his sandy blonde hair and gave each Billy and Eddie warm smiles.

“Hi, I’m Ben,” he said, extending a hand out to the two of them. 

“Eddie.”

“Bill. We j-just came down here f-from Derry.”

“Wow,” Ben said with a laugh. “Yeah I have some relatives up there, it is not the greatest place in the world.”

“You could say that again,” Eddie said while he rolled his eyes. “It’s a shit hole.”

“Yeah, have to go up there every Christmas to hang out with my grandma,” Ben said, a sympathetic look on his face.

“You’re lucky you d-don’t live up there.” Bill said.

“God, I can’t imagine what that’s like. . .” Ben trailed off shaking his head. “Well, it’s nice to meet both of you,” Ben began before taking a few steps backwards. “If you need any help, just holler!” he said as he walked back to his spot at the cash register. Then, the front door jingled.

They shot in like a bolt of lightning, mad as hell and the piss was frightening. The sounds of spinning plastic wheels and whoops filled the air. It was a swirl of colors, from the top of their bright red helmets to the bottom of their shined white leather skates. Eyeliner was smudged into dark black circles, chipped nail polish on their fingers. One of them rolled up to Ben.

“Hey Ben,” she said, ginger hair blazing under her helmet.

“Hiya Bev,” he replied with a face-covering grin, turning towards her. “Got new fliers for the next derby?”

“You betcha,” she said, blowing a wad of pink gum that then promptly popped on her face. Eddie heard a cackle a few racks over.

“Oh Bev,” a curly dark haired boy said, scraping the gum off of her face and throwing it into a trash can.

“Ew,” Eddie groaned as softly as he could. He heard the black haired boy snicked.

“Shit happens cutie,” he said, rolling over to Eddie, hands on his hips. “You know this cutie-patootie here Benny-boy?” the stranger asked, smirk dancing on his face.

“His name’s Eddie,” Ben said, sharing a knowing look with Beverly.

“Eds, huh?” the stranger said. “Richie,” he stuck his hand out to Eddie who tentatively shook it.

“It’s just Eddie,” he replied. Eddie glanced around, searching for Bill, but he was talking to another boy who also happened to be wearing roller skates. “Well that’s Bill,” Eddie said, pointed in his general direction.

“Ah he’s talking to Stan the Man,” Richie said, walking over to the pair, Eddie right behind him. “Staniel!” Richie called. Stan suddenly seemed to snap out of some sort of haze looking back at Richie.

“Mmhm?” he said, blinking in a daze. 

“Why don’t you introduce me to your new friend there,” Richie said, looking at Stan teasingly. Stan narrowed his eyes.

“Oh shut up Richie,” he said. Eddie noticed the light blush rising on this other boy’s cheeks.

“I’m Bill,” Stan glanced over at Bill giving him an almost thankful look. “See y-you’ve had to deal w-with Eddie over here.” Richie chuckled.

“Oh Eds here is just swell,” Richie said, throwing an arm over Eddie’s shoulder.

“It’s just Eddie,” Eddie said slipping out of Richie’s grasp.

“Well, just Eddie,” the shorter boy rolled his eyes. “Hey, you knew I was going to say that,” Richie said. 

“Doesn’t mean I appreciate it,” Eddie grumbled. Fortunately Beverly skated over to the boys. 

“Oh stop bothering them Lil Dicky,” Beverly said, hands on her hips before she blew yet another bubble. “We’re having a derby in a few days,” she said, handing a flier to Eddie. “You should come!” Eddie stared at the neon green piece of paper in his hand.

“What’s a derby?” he asked. Richie suddenly gasped, over dramatically to be fair, and slapped a hand on his chest.

“Why Eds” he exclaimed. “You don’t know what a derby is?”

“Is he always this over dramatic?” Eddie asked Stan.

“Unfortunately,” Stan replied before giving Richie a look.

“It’s a tragedy Stanny!” Richie said, throwing his hands in the air. “I meet a cute boy while Ben’s on shift and he doesn’t know about the greatest sport of all time.”

“Granted,” Beverly said, pushing past Richie to save him from any further embarrassment. “Not many people know about it.”

“W-well what is it then?” Bill said, watching the whole scene unfold before him with an amused smile on his face. 

“It’s basically WWE on roller skates,” Stan said. “That’s how Richie got that shiner right there,” he pointed at a purple bruise that extended from underneath Richie’s t-shirt sleeve to the tip of his elbow.

“Fuckin hell,” Eddie whispered. “You’ve iced that right?”

“I’m not a fucking idiot Eds,” Richie scoffed, examining his elbow. 

“Yeah well you’re dumb enough to not have wrapped up your knuckles,” Eddie said as he picked at Richie’s right hand. 

“Well I would’ve gotten more injuries if I knew you’d be looking after me,” Richie batted his eyelashes as Eddie rummaged through his fanny pack. Peeling off pieces of sports tape off with his fingernails, he wrapped Richie’s hand in only a matter of seconds.

“If you’re going to do dumb shit,” Eddie said while Richie looked down at his hand in awe. “At least make sure you take care of yourself.” Stan let out a low whistle.

“Tryouts for derby are starting up again,” Stan said, pulling another neon green flier out of Beverly’s hand and sneakily taking the one out of Eddie’s as well. “Text me if you want the times,” he said as he wrote his number on one of them before handing it to Bill.

“Y-yeah,” Bill smiled. “I’ll see if h-he’s up to it.” The two boys looked over at Eddie and Richie, the latter of which was begging for the former’s number.

“Make sure he gets this okay?” Stan asked, writing Richie’s number down on the other flier as Bill laughed loudly.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Th-that’s yours on the other one, r-right?”

“Of course it is,” Stan said. “I mean, I don’t hand out my phone number to just anyone.”

“D-does that make me special th-then?” 

“Very,” Richie suddenly coughed behind them.

“Not to uh, ruin the mood,” Richie said, throwing in some small jazz hands for extra effect. “But we gotta motor.”

“Eddie,” Beverly called. “Please at least come to the rally, we could always use someone to patch us up. And who knows,” she shrugged. “Maybe you’ll like it and want to join a team.”

“Well,” Eddie rubbed his neck. “I do figure skate actually.” Richie’s head shot up at that. 

“See,” Beverly said with a grin. “You’ve got tons of experience already.”

“Eds please, you have to come,” Richie begged, his lower lip dropped and quivering.

“I’ll think about it.” Eddie said.

“Please,” Richie whined.

“No promises,” Eddie said. “I’ll see what I can do okay?”

“Come on Richie,” Stan smirked from the store door. “We gotta motor.”  
“Ha ha,” Richie called out to his best friend. “Using my own words against me, I see how it is.”

“See you later Ben,” Beverly said with a wave of her hand. And just like that, they were out of the door.

Bill handed the flier with Richie’s number on it to Eddie. He murmured a “thanks’ in reply, while he continued to stare out the door, his eyebrows scrunched together. He subconsciously noticed that Bill had walked over to talk to Ben, but Eddie’s head couldn’t stop swimming.

See, the last time Eddie had interacted with anyone remotely new was six months ago, when his mom dragged him to the University of Maine for a quick college tour. It’d been awhile since he’d done this whole talking thing. But never before in his life, had he interacted with someone like that.

Richie was a whole new kind of beast. He smelled like an ashtray. He spat nicknames out like they were fishbones. He wore Hawaiian shirts in January for Christ’s sake! So why the fuck did Eddie find him remotely interesting? Why did Eddie want to know more about this boy and his bruised knuckles and his curly hair and his bright blue ey-

“Eddie!” He snapped back to reality to see Bill waving a hand in front of his face. “D-did you hear anything I j-just said?”

“Uh . . . No?” Eddie said weakly.

“I just got off of my shift.” Ben said. “Greta’s taking over, wanna go to Friendly’s for lunch.”

“Yeah,” Eddie blinked, trying to wake himself up. “Yeah, yeah sure.” 

“I’m d-driving!” Bill called, running out the door.

“Fuck,” Eddie muttered.

*

“Okay,” Eddie swirled his mint chocolate chip milkshake with his spoon. “How does this work?” Bill looked up from his plate of fries.

“How does what work?” Ben asked, wiping ketchup off of his chin. 

“Roller derby.”

“Oh,” Ben said, clearly a bit surprised. “Beverly’s better at explaining it, but I guess I’ll give it a shot.” Bill glanced over at Eddie, another one of his plans forming in his head.

“The object, just like any other sports game really, is to get more points than the opposing team,” Ben began. “There are five members out on the track at a time, four of those members are called the pack.”

Ben grabbed a napkin and a pulled a fat marker out of his backpack.

“It’s easier if I draw it for you,” he explained. “The whistle blows, and the pack takes off. Then, the jammers come from behind. Those two skaters have to get through the pack and then haul ass and pass all of them again. For every opposing team member they pass, they get a point.”

“S-so is it really WWE on sk-skates like Stan s-said?” Bill asked. “Like is it a f-free for all?”

“Yeah,” Ben nodded. “Basically.” 

“What if someone gets a concussion or something?” Eddie asked before taking a sip of his milk shake. 

“They get sent out of the game and someone replaces them,” Ben said with shrug. “I mean, it’s terrible of course but the show must go on, you know what I mean?”

Eddie nodded. It sounded equally parts amazing and dangerous. I mean it was a real contact sport and he hadn’t played one of those in years. His mom had pulled him out of PE after he broke his arm from playing soccer in 5th grade. Maybe he could make a chance out of this. Prove that he was stronger. Prove that he wasn’t a pansy for skating.

"We’re g-going.” Bill said firmly, looking Eddie dead in the eye.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighed. “Yeah we are.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re not off the hook just yet Denbrough!” Eddie yelled back. “There’s no way we’re going,” he continued grumbling under his breath as he walked down the linoleum aisled hallway. 
> 
> They ended up going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr: marsisaplanetyall

Spending a whole weekend trapped in his house hadn’t been as terrible as Eddie had thought it would be. His mom had already picked up his prescription refills, gotten groceries, and went to the laundromat. The fact that she did all of it by herself startled Eddie, but he wasn’t surprised. By agreeing to her original terms, he knew there wouldn’t be a way out.

Eddie didn’t walk to the ice rink, his mom drove him. They were out of milk? His mom bolt locked the front and back doors, drove to the corner store two blocks from their house and bought some. It seemed Sonia Kaspbrak was going to do everything in her power to keep him at home. 

And Eddie couldn’t just ditch skating practice. If he was going to get out of Derry and be the next Adam Rippon, he had to go to every session. Which also lead him to another question, what if he fell in love with roller derby? So that’s why at school on Monday, he avoided bringing up Bangor to Bill. 

It was the first thing they argued about at school on Monday.

“Eddie,” Bill whined, panting as he locked up his bike. “We c-can’t bail out on Ben.”

“This is really what you’re gonna talk about to me first thing in the morning?” Eddie asked, his lips pursed and hands on his hips. “Didn’t ask me how my weekend was. Didn’t ask me how skating’s been. Just straight up confrontation.”

“This is imp-portant Eddie!” Bill exclaimed as Eddie rolled his eyes. 

“We didn’t promise anything Bill,” Eddie replied as they climbed up the steps of Derry High School.

“It w-would still be a shitty th-thing to do! Besides I’ve b-been texting Stan all weekend and I s-said we’d be th-there.” Bill tried to put the words back into his mouth but they had already been said. Eddie turned around slowly, his pale face turning a shade of red that was growing darker by the millisecond.

“You did what?” Eddie hissed, eyes wide. Bill sighed.

“I t-told Stan that we wo-uld come,” Bill shrugged his shoulders. “Besides-s-s, we already told Ben th-that we would g-go, what’s so bad about m-me confirming it-t to someone el-else?”

“Because Stan is on the actual team!” Eddie said, rubbing his brow in either anxiety or disbelief, it was hard to tell.

“So wh-what?” Bill scoffed. “Ben pro-o-bably already told th-them we would g-go to the derby. It’s n-not like I’ve ruined anyth-ing.”

“You and your stupid dick, always getting us into these situations,” Eddie grumbled.

“Y-you’re one to talk!” Bill said defensively. “I saw h-how you were looking at Rider? R-Ricky?”

“His name is Richie,” Eddie said with a groan. “And he’s fucking annoying Bill.”

“St-till your type,” Bill said with a smirk.

“Stop trying to change the subject Billy!” Eddie said. “I just have so much shit coming up and now we have to drive back to Bangor on Friday because of you. . .”

“Well t-tell your mom we’re going-uh to a footb-ball game or s-some shit,” Bill said. “She’ll eat th-that shit up.”

Eddie contemplated this. See, before Sonia had gained a hundred pounds or so, she was quite well off. Frank Kaspbrak, Eddie’s father, had been a valued member of Derry High School's football team. They were your perfect stereotypical high school sweethearts, that is until Frank died in a car accident when Eddie was three years old. From then on, Sonia kept Eddie in the house and did everything to make sure he was under her direct line of sight. Due to this, she became isolated herself and the rest was history.

The bell rang, bringing Eddie back from his thoughts as well as draining any last wisps of sleep from his eyes. Derry hadn’t replaced it’s overhead system since the late 80’s.

“We’ll talk about this during lunch,” Eddie sighed.  
“Sweet,” Bill called, already on his way to home room.

“You’re not off the hook just yet Denbrough!” Eddie yelled back. “There’s no way we’re going,” he continued grumbling under his breath as he walked down the linoleum aisled hallway. 

*  
They ended up going.

Here’s the thing about Bill Denbrough, when he wants something, he gets it. When they were in Kindergarten, Betty Ripsom brought two boxes of maple bars for her birthday and shared them with her whole class. Each kid was allowed one, Bill somehow managed to get three. When the donuts ran out and Betty herself didn’t get one, all was blamed on Belch Huggins. 

Honestly, Eddie should have seen this coming. 

The plan went on without a hitch. Eddie and Bill sweet talked Mrs. Kaspbrak for a full twenty minutes. There were of course some last minute excuses like the fact that the game was away and that Bill’s parents were more than okay with letting Eddie sleepover. And it fucking worked. 

Eddie squealed as they ran to Bill’s car, his dad’s old oversized football jersey hanging to his knees.

“Shotgun!” Bill cried into the street, grabbing the passenger door and plopping into his seat. Eddie just slowly walked to the driver’s seat and turned to Bill, a shit eating grin curling from ear to ear. Bill’s eyebrows rose in confusion before a look of realization sprung on his face.

“And now you get to deal with my ‘reckless driving’,” Eddie smirked before sticking his tongue out as his best friend, who was currently cradling his face in his hands.

“Shshit,” Bill moaned. “W-wait a minute. . . .” Now it was time for Eddie to groan.

“Oh fuck shotgun rules,” Eddie said, flipping on the radio. “Besides, you’re the one who made up OUR minds to go to this damn thing.”

“Ugh,” Bill groaned as he handed Eddie his keys.

“Auuughhhh,” Eddie gagged. “Why are you keys so sticky?”

“I d-dunno,” Bill replied as Eddie put the car into ignition before changing the radio station to the closest alternative station, which in typical Bill fashion he had pre-set. 

Bill’s car was a shitty old station wagon that Eddie helped fix up every other month. This was due to the fact that Derry’s nearest auto repair shop was one of the sketchiest parts of town, which was saying something considering that Derry rarely had inspection checks of any kind. Bill never called the car an “it” or just a “car” like any normal person he would. Bill always referred to her as a “she”.

“B-Boats are all c-called ‘she’ Eddie. Why w-wouldn’t we d-do the same thing with cars-s?” was what he would say whenever Eddie complained about Bill’s naming habit.

‘She’ was also constantly dirty. There were empty Happy Meals in the backseat that Bill’s little brother, Georgie, had eaten weeks ago and loose change was everywhere making the car rattle any time someone slammed a door close. One time, Eddie sat on a wad of old gum which lead him to deep clean the car. It took him seven hours to get the whole interior done, excluding glove boxes and such. From then on, Eddie also helped Bill clean his car whenever it broke down.

“I should have expected as much from you,” Eddie said, ignoring the fact that Bill changed the radio station. “Your car is filthy.”

“You’re h-hurting her feelings,” Bill pouted. 

“Oh shut up William,” Eddie said as they passed a sign that read “Now Leaving Derry.”

“Fuck y-you Derry!” Bill said, sticking both of his middle fingers out of his window before spitting in the direction of his very much hated hometown. Eddie giggled while he pressed harder on the gas.

Being with Bill was like sitting on top of the world. Eddie had spent countless nights climbing out of his window to spend time with him, Bill cruising down a hill on his skateboard at top speed. Eddie would always be right behind him on his bike, a cherry slushie from 7-11 in his hand. They may have been losers, but they were losers together.

There was a time when Eddie thought he loved Bill. Romantically, that is. And he was right in a sense, Eddie did love Bill. He loved him in the way you would love a brother. Sleepovers at Bill’s house always resulted in late night cuddles while a movie played like white noise in the background. A few times there were stolen kisses. But those were later replaced with apologies and long talks about what they were. That was the end of whatever romantic interest Eddie had in Bill. Sometimes you experiment and your hypothesis is wrong, that’s just how the world works.

Eddie glanced over at Bill whose hand was outside his window creating waves with the wind. And yet again, Eddie couldn’t help but think that maybe Bill had a good idea every once in awhile.

They ended up at a broken down warehouse with paint peeling off of the exterior and an unpaved parking lot that was essentially pebbles. It was the end of January and stadium style lights shone down over the parking lot. Cheers could already be heard from outside the stadium. They were so loud it seemed as if the building would crumble on itself at any moment. 

Eddie had long since taken his football jersey off, merely wearing the striped long sleeved shirt that was under it. He glanced over at Bill, who was beaming up at the building like a toddler entering Disneyland. 

“This is g-gonna be fuckin’ awesome,” Bill murmured before glancing at Eddie. Bill’s smile was infectious, Eddie could already feel the corners of his mouth perk up. He nodded as they walked into the building.

If the outside was battered, the inside was straight up dilapidated. The tile floors were a swirly pink, gum stuck to handrails, the lights were dim. Eddie felt the urge to start sanitizing his hands immediately. As they continued to walk, he saw it.

The light escaping from the double doors burned his eyes, the cheers were even more deafening than they were previously. Bill grabbed his hand, staring at him intently. He raised an eyebrow as if to ask “Are you okay?”. Eddie merely nodded yet again in response. They walked through the double doors and Eddie heard himself gasp.  
The rink was filled with people, rammed together as if they were beans in a can. Girls waved neon green posters above their heads, voices hoarse and raw from screaming. Boys wore dark blue lipstick, eyes firey and glinting. Bill pulled him through the crowd, and before he knew it, his stomach was slammed right up against the handrail. The skaters would be only a foot away from him when they entered.

“Welcome one and all to the pre-season of Bangor’s annual Roller Rage!” a dark skinned boy crowed from the center of the rink into an old school microphone.

“I’m your emcee as usual, Mikey Hanlon!” he continued. “Today facing off in a clash to be known for the rest of history, may I introduce you to our first team, the Blue Ballers!”

Skaters in electric blue uniforms poured out from the other end of the rink. Rough and tumble boys in navy knee pads did tricks on their skates along with a single girl that Eddie thought he recognized from the previous week. What was her name. . .Gretchen? Greta?

“Number 5! Captain of the Blue Ballers we have Henry Killiams!” Mike yelled as the crowd went wild. “Number 25! Pyro Maniac! Number 84, Punchy Brewster! And number 62, Holly GoBiteMe!”

The screaming continued, Eddie’s ears were ringing and the match hadn’t even started. He thought he saw glimpses of red peep out from the other end of the rink.

“And our second team, our favorite underdogs,” Mike said with a wink. “The Losers Club!”

There they were again, in their red and white uniforms. Eddie saw Richie crowing, Stan and Beverly right behind him along with one more skater that he didn’t recognize. They twirled, they stretched, one of them fell on their ass. It was glorious to say the least. 

“Here we have number 69, captain of the Losers Club, Dick “Trashmouth” Shamey!” Mike hollered. Richie started waving, before going into an elaborate spin, his burgundy shorts riding up, his raccooned eyeliner highlighting his bright blue eyes. Bill nudged Eddie with his elbow before screaming at the top of his lungs, Eddie joining right in. Eddie saw Richie’s eyes widen when they landed on him, his smile growing even more.

“Number 13, our red haired daredevil, Harlot O’Hara!” Beverly blew a kiss to the crowd, her cheerleader style skirt swishing. Members of the crowd catcalled as she gave them a flirty wink.

“Number 7, Bloody Holly!” Stan skated circles around Richie as he waggled his fingers. Eddie noticed Bill’s cheek warm up.

“And Number 56, Miss Moxie!” Mike finished listing off the skater’s names as they lined up to the starting line. “Get ready for a race to remember, a clash of clans and a war of wars! Come on guys, gals, and non-binary pals, let’s do some derby!”

The crowd went nuts as soon as Mike blew the whistle. Eddie had never been so entranced by something before. Richie’s glasses were already fogged up, his mismatched neon laces flopping down his skates. He stayed in the back behind the other skaters, lined up with the captain of the opposing team. Both of them wore caps over their helmets, large stars on either side.

The skaters took off, Richie and the other captain close behind as soon as the next whistle blew. They shot through the pack, at lightning speed. Beverly jammed her elbow into a skater’s nose, blood flowing out of it instantly as Stan tripped another player. One of the Blue Ballers shoved Stan down causing him to land on his knees. He’d definitely get a swollen bruise from that. Eddie saw Bill visibly wince, before he let out a slew of curses at the other skater. 

Mike continued hollering play by play as Richie and number 5 rolled around the rink. Beverly shot out her arm to Richie, pulling him ahead into the lead. He passed the pack yet again, as Mike shouted:

“Harlot O’Hara pulls Dick Shamey in for the whip!” the crowd continued their ceaseless cheering. “Nothing beats the whip!”

His lungs were prickling, his throat was raw. He was in another state of mind. Eddie felt himself clutch onto Bill’s shoulder and shake him. 

“Are they winning?” Eddie asked.

“I th-think they are” Bill shouted before they both burst into cheers. Beverly and Greta received the star caps next, racing around the track at top speed. Richie kicked an opposing player in the shins as Stan held his arms back to block anymore incoming skaters. 

Each round was more intense than the last with injuries happening at a rate Eddie had never seen before. He prayed to whatever god there was up there that no one broke any bones. 

The numbers on the scoreboard were getting tighter, the Losers Club close behind the Blue Ballers by eight points. Eddie anxiously watched the orange block numbers count down. The skaters sped around the rink, the waves of screaming enveloped Eddie as the white noise funneled into his ears. Mike’s whistle snapped him back to reality. 

“And the Blue Ballers move up in the preliminaries!” Mike shouted. The blue side of the warehouse cheered as the red side jeered in response. From the center of the ring a mantra could be heard.

“We are number two! We are number two!” the Losers Club hollered as they jumped up and down, white wheels clanging obnoxiously on the wooden rink. 

“They placed second in a two player sport,” Eddie snorted as he glanced up at Bill who chuckled in response. The warehouse began to clear out. Drunken college kids slipped on spilt beer as the skaters walked into their locker-rooms. Bill threw an arm over Eddie’s shoulder.

“Stan asked us to wait for him, is that okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, yeah of course,” Eddie said dismissively. He figured they would stay out later, which means he would see Richie. Not that he didn’t want to see Richie, he just didn’t want to not not see Richie? Eddie shook his head. He barely knew the guy, only god would know what kind of person Richie is. If there even was a god.

Eddie’s thoughts returned to the rally he had just seen. The skaters, the noises, the feeling he got in the pit of his stomach.

God, it was just like when he was skating yet somehow heightened. The way they speeded and fought and kicked and punched and the cheers. . . .It was a beautiful catastrophe. 

And though Eddie wasn’t one for messes, this was one he could handle. One he thought he could even participate in.

For fuck’s sake, was Eddie actually considering this? Eddie felt his fingernails scratching the inside of his palm and decided that yes, yes he was. And who knows, maybe it would turn out to be a bad decision, but you have to try in order to know for sure.

He heard Richie’s voice before he even caught a glimpse of his colorful self. His voice was colorful enough as is. You didn’t have to stop Richie in a crowd to recognize him, all you had to do was listen. Eddie had learned that quicker than he had expected. 

“Eddie Spaghetti! Light of my life!” Richie crowed, his face still red from skating. “You actually came.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Eddie said while he crossed his arms. “Bill dragged me here.’

“You wound me,” Richie said as he dramatically clung to his heart. Eddie rolled his eyes as he desperately prayed the corners of his mouth wouldn’t perk up.

“You’re quite possibly the most overdramatic person I have ever met.” Eddie replied.

“Well, you’re not the first one to say that Eds, and I have a feeling you won’t be the last,” Richie said with a wink. “There’s a party going on and by the looks of it, Stan’s going to ask Bill to go.” Eddie sighed.

“Looks like I’ll be going too.” 

“See ya there cowboy,” Richie called, strolling back to the locker rooms. Eddie didn’t doubt that for a minute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long!!!! Procrastination is a real bitch......


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie didn’t really go to parties. Bill had dragged him to them before but they weren’t really his ‘scene’ per se. If he was going to waste his time on the weekend, he would rather eat carbs in his room while putting off stretching. He knew he was bound to not have a good time. Eddie expected and accepted it. That didn’t change the fact that he didn’t want to go to this party or that Bill’s driving was making his mood worse.

Eddie didn’t really go to parties. Bill had dragged him to them before but they weren’t really his ‘scene’ per se. If he was going to waste his time on the weekend, he would rather eat carbs in his room while putting off stretching. He knew he was bound to not have a good time. Eddie expected and accepted it. That didn’t change the fact that he didn’t want to go to this party or that Bill’s driving was making his mood worse. 

 

“L-life is a highwuh-way,” Bill screeched as they stopped at an intersection, head moving like an aggressive bobblehead. Eddie resisted the urge to bang his own head against the dashboard. He hadn’t cleaned Bill’s car in two weeks and he didn’t want to catch anything. 

 

“Do we really have to go to this?” Eddie groaned sliding down in the passenger seat.

 

“Luh-let me get d-dicked down Eddie!” Bill said, speeding as soon as the light turned green. “Buh-sides, it could be fun.” Eddie shot a glance at Bill who either ignored it or merely didn’t see, Eddie wasn’t sure. 

 

“No,” Eddie said, folding his arms across his chest and glaring out the window. 

“Wuh-we’re still going,” Bill said. 

 

“I know, I just don’t wann-uhhhhhhh,” Eddie whined, dragging out the word as he pouted. His bottom lip practically touched the glass of his window. 

 

Bill shook his head with a roll of his eyes and a cheeky grin. His eyes stayed focused on the road despite the way he hollered along to the music playing on the radio.

 

“Bill, take a left,” Eddie said, pointing to an upcoming stop sign.

 

“It says th-the next left Ed-die,” Bill said.

 

“Bill take the left.”

 

“It isn’t th-this one Eddie.”

 

“Bill take the fucking left you’re gonna miss it!”

 

“Eddie it’s n-not thi-”

 

“-nd you’re the one who wants to go to this stupid fu-”

 

“Will you trust m-my sense of direction f-for on-”

 

“Bill take the goddamn le-”

 

“It’s n-not th-”

 

“You just missed it. Oh my FUCKING G-”

 

“Ed-die it’s fine, for F-FUCK’S SA-”

 

“ _ Route recalculation.” _

 

The two boys were silent as soon as the GPS spoke. Spoke? Could it really be considered speaking? No matter the correct term, they sat there in silence before Eddie said:

 

“I fucking told you.”

 

“Sh-shut the fuck up Eddie,” Bill replied as he made a u-turn. As soon as Bill turned down the street the boys heard the thumping of music. The loud bass boomed blocks away from the actual party-site as they slowly drove through the neighborhood.

 

Eddie wasn’t surprised to see that there were kids already passed out on the front lawn or that there was toilet paper decorating trees like it was Christmas. He  _ was _ surprised to see that there was parking. Bill pulled his trusty car against the curb as the two boys stared wide-eyed at the house in front of them that looked practically radioactive. 

 

“Okay!” Bill said definitively as he slapped his palms against the steering wheel. “L-let’s go.” Eddie remained unmovable in the passenger seat. 

 

Bill sighed and got out of the driver’s seat before walking over to Eddie’s side of the car. Without any thought, he opened the door, unbuckled Eddie’s seat belt, and physically pulled him out of the car. For some reason, Eddie didn’t resist.

 

“We’re going to do something stupid,” Eddie said, shaking his head as Bill clasped his hand and pulled him towards the house.

 

“It’s an adv-venture Eddie!” Bill said, swinging their arms like a couple of Kindergarteners. 

 

“And our adventures always result in stupidity,” Eddie sighed as they arrived at the front door. Bill didn’t bother to knock on the door and instead pushed it open immediately. 

 

This was a mistake. The door smacked right into Ben’s head.

 

“Fuck!” he yelped, his hand immediately reaching up to grasp his forehead. 

 

“O-oh my god,” Bill’s hand shot forward to gingerly touch Ben’s forehead. “I am s-so sorry,” he said, eyes wild and eyebrows knit together as he inspected his forehead for bruises.

 

“It’s okay,” Ben softly laughed as he removed Bill from his face. “Shit happens.”

 

Eddie scanned around the room as he slowly walked past Ben and Bill, who had now started to make small talk. He turned back around and placed a hand on Ben’s shoulder.

 

“Do you know where Richie is?” he asked. Ben merely grinned before the sound of a power chord being played on the guitar shook the house. 

 

“Check over there,” he replied, gesturing to the living room where the noise had supposedly come from. Eddie tentatively walked over towards the room when suddenly he heard words being spoken.

 

“Are y’all ready for a rock show?” a smoky voice said. Eddie walked closer to the room, he noticed that the announcer from the derby was holding the microphone. Party-goers shouted back an affirmative. Eddie began to notice how the living room was set up. There was a drum kit along with some other instruments and amplifiers galore. He saw a flash of red hair from behind the drum kit, a pair of long slender fingers gripping a bass and then suddenly, an all too familiar face whipped around to face the audience and tore the microphone out of Mike’s hands.

 

“Well get ready for a show!” Richie hollered. “Get ready. . .”

 

“For Richie Tozier’s All Dead Rock Show,” the band screamed simultaneously. Beverly began to bang her drum sticks together.

 

“One. . . two. . . one, two, three, four!” she yelled rapidly and then they began to play. Eddie watched, wide eyed and captivated as he was drawn in towards the makeshift stage before him.

 

Richie started banging his head, his curls flew all over his face as his glasses bounced up and down. His hands moved up and down the neck of guitar as he played a quick riff before going to the chords. Stan plucked his bass and bent his knees to the music. He seemed aloof yet in tune with the chaos occurring on the stage he was on. Richie moved closer to the microphone and began to sing.

 

“One day I took a walk to Zipperhead. I met a girl there and she almost knocked me dead.”

 

“Punk rock girl!” Beverly and Stan cheered into their microphones.

 

“Please look at me,” Richie cried.

 

“Punk rock girl!” his bandmates cheered again.

 

“Let’s travel ‘round the world. Just you and me, punk rock girl,” the band sang in unison.

 

The crowd began to jump up and down, their bodies sloshing against each other. Eddie felt himself start to push against others and decided that he would move with the flow of traffic. This also caused him to move closer to the musicians.

 

“I tapped her on the shoulder and said ‘do you have a beau?’ She looked and me and smiled and said she did not know,” Richie sang.

 

“Punk rock girl!” Beverly and Stan hollered.

 

“Give me a chance,” Richie replied.

 

“Punk rock girl!” the audience chanted.

 

“Let’s go slamdance!” Richie sang, finally catching Eddie’s eye. He turned his body so that his eyes were fully trained on the smaller boy. “We’ll dress like Minnie Pearl.”

 

“Just you and me, punk rock girl,” the band sang definitively.

 

Richie began to sing of Philadelphia Pizza Companies, malls, and stolen cars while Eddie jumped around to the music. As the final chords of the song rang out throughout the living room, Eddie stopped for a moment to catch his breath. He noticed Bill maneuvering his way through the crowd.

 

“H-have you seen. . .” he began to say as he finally reached Eddie. Bill trailed off when he noticed the very boy he was looking for was on stage. “. . . Stan,” he said breathlessly, finally finishing his sentence.

 

“They’re really good,” Eddie said, laughing at Bill’s starstruck look. Bill’s snapped out of his haze when Stan began singing a few eerie background notes at the beginning of the next song. The iconic background melody caused Bill’s mouth to stretch into a wide Cheshire smile. As soon as Richie went to sing the main lyrics into the microphone, the audience began to sing loud enough to drown him out.

 

“With your feet in the air and your head on the ground,” the audience sang. “Try this trick and spin in! Yeah!”

 

Eddie and Bill were screaming the lyrics in each other’s faces. They began to sweat as the audience moved back and forth, always singing. 

 

“Where is my mind?” the crowd asked. “Where is my mind, where is my mind?” they dragged out the words, arms wrapped around each other.

 

Eddie laughed into the crook of Bill’s neck, ignoring the sweat that was starting to roll down it. 

 

A few songs later and the band left the stage with the sound of Richie giving an overdramatic shout. Eddie weaseled his way out of the crowd so he could get some air and found himself climbing up the stairs into the house’s attic. 

 

The attic was similar to a loft. It was wide and open and you could clearly see the beams of the roof close to the ceiling. There was something comforting about looking at the oak wood above him. 

 

He walked across the fluffy carpet which reminded him of the shaggy fur of a sheep dog. Whoever owned this house had some pretty great decorating skills. There were books lining the walls from ceiling to floor. Strings of lights ran across the room and a pair of sheer curtains framed a large set of bay windows.

 

But what really caught Eddie’s eye was a nook in the corner containing a large armchair and some more shelves that were full of records. He carefully jogged over to the area before kneeling in front of the shelves.

 

Eddie scanned over the records, his index finger tracing over their spines. The albums varied from artists like Marvin Gaye to New Order. His finger stopped when he found The Queen is Dead by the Smiths. He heard a snort from behind him. Eddie whipped his head around. 

 

“Basic,” Richie said with a smirk as he crouched down so he was at Eddie’s level. 

 

“Oh fuck off Richie,” Eddie said with a roll of his eyes.

 

“Be my manic pixie dream girl Eds,” Richie cooed, snatching the record from his hands. “I love the Smiths,” he said, modulating and stretching out the ‘O’ in love.

 

“What,” Eddie said with a laugh. “Are you saying that I’m Zooey Deschanel?”

 

“I guess that just makes me Joseph Gordon-Levitt,” Richie replied. He walked towards the record player and placed the needle on the circle of vinyl. However, he didn’t start the album at the beginning, in fact, the song that was playing came off of the B-side.

 

“Take me out,” Richie crooned, rolling his hips towards Eddie. “Tonight,” Eddie snorted.

“Where there’s music and there’s people and they’re young and alive.”

 

Richie shoved a fake microphone in his face and Eddie shook his head.

 

“Aw c’mon Eds!” Richie pouted. He gripped Eddie’s hands before swinging them back and forth. “Sing with me! You were doing it earlier.”

 

“That was when you couldn’t hear me,” Eddie said as he begrudgingly took Richie’s hand. 

 

“I could hear you just fine Eds,” Richie replied as he tugged Eddie closer to his chest.

 

“That’s not my name,” Eddie replied. “What is it with you and nicknames?”

 

“It’s just a little bit of Richie Tozier flare sweetcheeks,” Richie said. Eddie shook his head in disbelief as him and Richie swayed to the Smiths.

 

“If a double decker bus,” Richie began to sing. “Crashes in to us.”

 

“To die by your side,” Eddie mumbled into Richie’s shoulder. “Is such a heavenly way to die.” 

 

“You’re already that attached to me Eds?” Richie said as Eddie moved his head away so he could look at the boy holding him. 

 

“It’s the song fuckface,” Eddie said with a shake of his head. 

 

“It’s the thought that counts,” Richie replied before twirling Eddie.

 

“If you drop me I will fucking kill you,” Eddie said loudly, trying not to yell from surprise. 

 

“I’m going to dip you,” Richie said as he pulled Eddie back in. 

 

“Don’t you dare dip me,” Eddie said shaking his head, eyes wild. 

 

“I’m gonna dip you,” Richie said, his smirk growing wider.

 

“Richie so help me god-”

 

“What’s going on fellas,” Mike called as he climbed up the stairs. Richie and Eddie sprung apart.

 

“Nothing much Mikey,” Richie said as he walked towards the other boy. “Just saw Eds up here.”

 

“Yeah, I love this part of the house.” Mike said, staring up at the wood beams of the attic. “My parents have good taste.” Mike suddenly looked at Eddie with a warm smile and soft eyes.

 

“I’m Mike,” he said, extending a hand. “We haven’t officially met yet.”

 

“Eddie,” he replied, taking Mike’s hand. Mike had a strong grip. His handshake was sturdy, yet gentle. Somehow it revealed a lot about his character.  

 

“I’ve heard a lot about you Eddie,” Mike said, dark brown eyes twinkling ever so slightly.

 

“There’s not much to hear about,” Eddie said with a laugh. After all, he’d only known Richie and the others for about a week. 

 

“That’s not true,” Richie said. “Eddie Spaghetti is very special!”

 

“Oh fuck off,” Eddie groaned, and with that he walked down the stairs to the noise of the party. Beverly was at the bottom of the stairs. A wad of bright pink bubble gum in her mouth as she chatted with Bill and Stan. 

 

“Oh hey Eddie!” Beverly exclaimed once she noticed him coming down the stairs. “Did you have fun at the rally?”

 

“Yeah,” Eddie said, nodding enthusiastically. “It was really cool!” he frowned for a moment, remembering how Richie’s knuckles had been scabbed when he first met him at the thrift store. “Does anyone need to be cleaned up?”

 

“Eh, my knee is a little swollen,” Stan said with a shrug.

 

“That’s cause you’re on your knees so much,” Richie replied, him and Mike had apparently followed Eddie from the attic. Stan punched him in the shoulder causing Richie to wince. 

 

“Is h-he always this over dramatic?” Bill asked.

 

“Yes,” Beverly, Stan, and Mike said in unison. Richie gasped.

 

“You guys are just rude,” he said as he folded his arms across his chest like a toddler who got Prismacolor crayons for Christmas instead of Crayola ones. Eddie shook his head.

 

“Seriously though,” he gestured towards Stan to sit down on the stairs. “Roll up your pants so I can check this out.”

 

“You don’t need to do that,” Richie said as he began to laugh. “Mike checks him out all the time .” 

 

With Richie’s statement, Bill’s face turned pale. He turned to get a better look at Mike. He hadn’t been able to see what Mike looked like at the rally and he couldn’t help but feel as though he had missed out significantly. 

 

Mike locked eyes with Bill as Eddie investigated the status of Stan’s knee. There was something about Mike’s warm gaze that caused something in Bill’s chest to clench in a strange yet comforting way.

 

“I haven’t met you yet,” Mike said, extending out his hand.

 

“B-bill,” he replied before taking Mike’s hand. 

 

“Mike,” the other boy said with a toothy grin.

 

“I g-gathered,” Bill said as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “I m-mean, I heard you at the r-rally so I know your name,” he said quickly, trying desperately not to appear rude.

 

Eddie scoffed as he rolled down Stan’s pant leg. Bill was an awful flurt, and it wasn’t just because he stuttered.

 

“Just ice it,” Eddie said as he stood up. “Anyone else hurt?” 

 

“You know,” Richie began, throwing an arm over Eddie’s shoulder. “You should really join the team Eds.”

 

“I’m really b-”

 

“Oh please Eddie!” Beverly exclaimed after she popped a bubble. “I know this was your first time coming to a rally and that you only met us last week, but you would be such a good addition to the group!” Stan nodded in agreement.

 

“I’ll think about it,” Eddie said. “I’ll text Richie for the date or something,” he said, thinking about the phone number that he’d texted only once since going to that thrift store. 

 

“You’ll consider it?” Richie asked. It was clear he wasn’t messing around as he looked deep into Eddie’s eyes, his own shrouded with worry. 

 

“Yeah,” Eddie said, with an ‘of course’ attitude, although this was a big decision for him. Richie shook off the emotion that was seeping through him with a pumped fist and a wiggle of his hips. 

 

Bill grabbed his phone and quickly checked the time.

 

“Shit,” he said, Eddie whipped his head around quickly to look at his friend. 

 

“Do we have to go?” Eddie asked. Bill reluctantly nodded. Eddie’s grin widened as he came to a realization. “You’ve been drinking.” Richie, Stan, Beverly, and Mike looked at each other confused as Bill groaned.

 

“F-fuck,” he said as Eddie did a small victory dance.

 

“I get to drive!” he said, poking Bill in the chest.    
  


“H-he’s awful at driving,” Bill explained to the rest of the group.

 

“I’m just de-”

 

“You’re j-just defensive!” Bill finished for Eddie. “I know.”

 

“They don’t,” Eddie said, walking down the last few steps so that he was at the landing of the staircase. 

 

“Do you really have to go?” Richie asked. 

 

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “I’ve got skating practice tomorrow.” 

 

“Hey!” Beverly said suddenly before turning to look at Stan. “You have Bill’s number, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Stan said.

 

“We can make a groupchat!” she said excitedly. “Keep in touch, make things easier.”

 

“That sounds like a wicked plan Red!” Richie replied as he ruffled Beverly’s hair. 

 

“Come on Bill,” Eddie said, tugging at Bill’s flannel sleeve. “Let’s get going.” 

 

“Bye g-guys,” Bill said with a wave. The rest of the group said their goodbyes, along with Eddie of course, and they began to exit Mike’s house.

 

The sky was darker, the stars somehow brighter, and the toilet paper much much dirtier. Eddie noticed a pair of rollerskates tied in a tree by its laces. Life was crazy sometimes.

 

He was more than sure it was about to get even crazier. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuses. Thanks to anyone who is still reading this. It's a VERY self indulgent AU and not one that many would read, so I truly appreciate that you guys are still here. Comments and kudos are very much appreciated! Come check me out on Tumblr @marsisaplanetyall
> 
>  
> 
> Songs Mentioned in this Chapter (in order):
> 
> Life is a Highway by Rascal Flatts
> 
> Punk Rock Girl by the Dead Milkmen
> 
> Where is My Mind by the Pixies
> 
> There is a Light that Never Goes Out by the Smiths


End file.
